


Berries Under a Blue Moon

by Elfwreck



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Infidelity, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Post-War, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-08
Updated: 2010-04-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfwreck/pseuds/Elfwreck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mengberries are best harvested on a full moon, and most powerful harvested under a blue moon. Harry needs them enough to ignore the dangers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Berries Under a Blue Moon

**Author's Note:**

> For Snarryathon 2010. Inspired by the thought, "what this fandom needs is more sex pollen fic." Wonderful beta help by joanwilder, and many thanks to accioslash for putting up with me being late, late, late. Originally posted at [LJ](http://community.livejournal.com/snape_potter/2300780.html) and [. (And DW, but that one has no comments.)](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/423438.html)

Harry arrived at the edge of the clearing a few minutes before sundown, just as Hermione had recommended. She'd found the location of the only mengberry grove in all of Britain, and they needed to be harvested under the light of a full moon to be at their most powerful. A blue moon was even more powerful, so he'd waited two months after she'd found the berry patch. He only hoped they'd be powerful enough. He'd left his own birthday party to be here, and Ginny wasn't happy with him. He hoped to make it up to her soon.

He felt ridiculous, wearing thin white silk robes (something about not interfering with the aura of the berries) and carrying a wicker basket. If these were the most powerful healing berries known to wizardkind, why were they so easy to ruin by gathering them wrong? He sighed, propped his broom against a tree, and started across the grove.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't see the other wizard until they were both almost at the berry bushes.

Harry found himself looking into the startled countenance of Severus Snape. Who was also wearing white silk (at least, Harry assumed it was silk; it was as thin as his own robes) and carrying a basket.

Snape, of course, recovered first, and sneered at him.

"So," he croaked, in the harsh voice Nagini had left him with. "Come to harvest mengberries on the full moon, have you? What ailment of the Potter-Weasley clan could possibly require such powerful healing magic? Did someone stub his toe? One of your owls break a pinfeather?"

Harry scowled back at him. "None of your damn business, Snape." He looked over the bushes, and added, "There's plenty here for both of us."

"And how do you know that, Potter?"

"Because just one of them will make a whole cauldron of Pepper-up Potion better. And no potion needs more than a pint of the juice."

"Been listening to Granger again, have you?" Snape rasped.

Harry flushed, and spoke in a low voice. "Her name's Weasley now. And I have learned something about potions."

"Ah yes, your little hobby. Tirelessly brewing Wolfsbane for the survivors of the war. But Wolfsbane doesn't use mengberries, so what brings you here?" Snape narrowed his eyes. "What ailment is worth leaving your _lovely_ wife on your birthday night?"

"Shut up, Snape," Harry growled, and turned away to start yanking berries off the nearest bush.

He was pretty sure Snape was gathering them to make a potion for his throat and voice; St Mungo's had only been able to heal some of the damage Nagini had done. Harry didn't want to talk about why he himself needed the berries.

Snape watched him for a long moment before starting to collect his own berries.

* * * 

The full moon rose high in the sky. The light gave an eerie shine to the purple berries, and the warm breeze in the valley carried a scent that made Harry's head spin.

Harry looked down at his robes, and almost blushed. He had purple stains in a dozen spots, while Snape's robes were still pure white. Harry's basket contained as many crushed and bruised berries as whole ones, and from what he could see, Snape's basket contained only whole, unbroken berries. Snape's was less full; he was picking each berry carefully with his fingertips, while Harry was grabbing whole clusters at once and ripping them off the vines.

They felt… warm. The leaves had tiny little hairs on them that tickled his hand when he picked the berries, and the juice on his hand was thick and sticky. It smelled sweet and rich. He started to bring his hand up to his mouth.

Just like that, Snape was in front of him, grabbing his hand.

"What are you _doing?_ " he demanded. Snape's fingers curled around his wrist.

He tried to pull his hand away, but Snape's grip was firm.

"Let me go!"

"You were going to _taste_ it!" Snape's raspy whisper made Harry shiver.

"So what if I was? —am. So what if I am?"

Snape pursed his lips together. Harry found himself staring at them. They started to move, and Harry found himself just watching them before he remembered to listen to the words.

"Bad enough you've let the raw juice on your skin. Do you know what it will do if you ingest it?"

Snape held Harry's hand up in the moonlight, and they both looked at the purple stains covering his fingers and half his palm. A drop of juice, caught between Harry's fingers, trickled slowly down his palm and paused for a long moment, glistening. Harry licked his lips, and Snape's breath hitched—and the drop splashed down onto the soft skin between Snape's thumb and forefinger where it was wrapped around Harry's wrist.

Harry felt more than saw a long shudder run through Snape. With their eyes locked together, Snape raised the hand slowly to his lips. When Snape's breath ghosted over Harry's fingertips, he stopped.

"You should—" Snape's voice didn't sound damaged at all. "—you should stop me."

Harry swallowed. He saw Snape's gaze jump to his throat, and he wanted to swallow again. "From what?" he whispered.

"From this." Snape's lips closed on Harry's fingertips.

This time, the shudder ran through both of them. Harry moaned softly as Snape nibbled and licked at his fingers. Snape's tongue was sharp and quick, almost slashing, but his teeth were gentle, biting very softly, and his lips traced the shape of Harry's fingers from tip to base, one at a time. Harry whimpered and let his eyes fall shut. He knew this was _Snape_ , of all people, and he should be horrified, but he couldn't bring himself to pull his hand away.

"It's the juice," Snape said between kisses.

"Wh-what?" Harry said. He knew Snape was licking at the juice on his hand, but he couldn't figure out why Snape would _tell_ him that, since he was pretty sure Snape knew he'd noticed.

"The juice." Snape kissed his palm, briefly licked the center of it. "The raw berries—" His teeth scraped up the sides of Harry's thumb. "—have an aphrodisiac effect." He bit carefully on the tips of Harry's index and middle fingers, holding them in place, while his tongue flickered between them.

Harry groaned and stepped forward as he shoved his fingers deep into Snape's mouth. Snape responded by sucking hard, by licking all the way to the center between the two fingers, letting his tongue flatten and twist around the sides. He slowly pulled Harry's hand away, scraping his teeth along Harry's knuckles as he sucked berry juice from his fingers.

When he pulled Harry's hand out, they were both panting hard. Snape was taking deep, shuddering breaths and Harry couldn't stop himself from making little sounds, moaning a little with every breath, and shifting closer to Snape.

Snape leaned his forehead into Harry's.

"We probably won't be able to stop," he said, more softly than Harry had ever heard him speak.

Harry nodded, rolling his forehead against Snape's. "Why would we stop?"

Snape closed his eyes momentarily, and then his mouth twisted into something like a smile. "You have a wife, remember?"

Harry wasn't thinking about his wife. He was thinking about the throbbing between his legs, and Snape so close to him, and wanting to press against Snape's body and get stains all over his robe. "She'll… she'll understand."

"Will she." Snape's voice was flat.

Harry thought about that. Ginny was many wonderful things, but 'understanding' had never really been one of them.

"I hope she'll understand?" Harry's voice wavered.

Snape snorted.

"Maybe I won't tell her?"

"If you ask nicely, I'll Obliviate you."

Harry thought about it, more seriously than he thought he'd be able to, with his pulse pounding in his ears and his whole body begging for touch. He shook his head.

"I hope—" Harry blushed deeply; Snape raised an eyebrow. "I hope she'll forgive me. If this works."

"The berries."

"Yes." Harry closed his eyes, hiding his need, his shame.

Snape raised his other hand, the one that wasn't holding Harry's, and cupped the back of Harry's neck. Harry couldn't stop himself; he rolled his head into the touch, and Snape's fingers tensed and relaxed, like he wanted to grip firmly and was forcing himself not to.

"What do you need them for?" Snape's voice was soft, but compelling. Or maybe it was the juice, the sweet smell in the air, Snape's fingertips tracing tiny circles on the back of his neck, making him dizzy, making him think, _If I just answer the question we can get on with it…_

Harry blushed deeper, and hung his head. "Ican'thavechildren," he mumbled.

"Hm?" Snape's fingers trailed around his neck and lifted his chin, until Harry was looking into Snape's eyes.

Harry knew his face was a mask of despair. "Children," he choked out. "I can't have children. When I … died…" his voice broke. Five years, he thought. Five years we've been married, and no children. Ginny's so lonely.

"The berries can be… very powerful. Especially gathered on a blue moon." Snape spoke in a soft whisper, and Harry couldn't decide if that was odd, or if he did it to hide the rasp when he spoke louder, or if it were probably just how Snape sounded when he was aroused. He could feel the tension in Snape's fingers on his chin, sliding gently onto his throat, could feel himself start to rock back and forth, just a little, trying to get closer.

He'd always thought—if he'd really thought about it, which he hadn't—that Snape would be as cold and harsh in bed as he was in the classroom, but Snape wasn't being demanding at all. Harry felt like being demanding. Felt like pushing Snape to the ground, covering him; something about Snape's gentle touch held him back.

"Why are you _talking_ to me? When we could be… we could be…" Harry couldn't say it aloud.

"Because we will be. Soon. And I would like to maintain… the illusion of choice. A while longer." Snape's breathing was as unsteady as his own.

"Choice?" Harry's voice was small.

"I had hoped—" With that, Snape's face twisted into a grimace "—that our longstanding antipathy, and some care with harvesting, would prevent this."

"You… you don't want me?"

Snape's hand spasmed at the side of his throat. "Idiot boy," he breathed, and drew Harry into a kiss.

Harry could taste the juice on his tongue.

Harry moaned loud into his mouth, and Snape swallowed every bit of it. Their knees buckled and if Snape hadn't grabbed his basket, Harry would have dropped it, but Snape made sure both baskets were set on the ground safely.

Snape made sure they rolled _away_ from the baskets.

He tasted everywhere on Harry's skin stained by mengberry juice, and everywhere the stains on his robes had touched. Harry writhed and gasped beneath him, and twisted into his touch until Snape slid upward to meet his lips again. Their bodies pressed together, they bucked against each other wildly, hard and slick, until Snape threw back his head and almost _screamed_ , and Harry followed him into completion.

Harry lay exhausted as Snape rolled off him, took a deep, shuddery breath, and reached for his wand.

"Sure you want to remember this?" Snape asked carefully.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment to think, ran his tongue over his lips… heard Snape's voice hitch before he said, "Decide _quickly_."

Harry breathed out, and pushed himself onto his elbows to meet Snape's gaze. "I'll keep it."

Snape's eyes widened, but he nodded. He cast a cleansing charm over each of them, and then, with a wry twist of his lips, something that removed the berry stains from Harry's robe.

"You'll forgive me if I don't offer you a hand up," he said. "I believe I have enough berries, and I'm going to leave before we find ourselves… re-entangled." Snape looked rather bemused as he picked up his half-full basket, nodded to Harry one final time, and left the clearing.

Harry lay back in the grass, staring at the full moon for a long while before gathering his basket and going home to his wife.


End file.
